


Home is Where Denial Lives

by Salios



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pants, Q isn't MI6, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, flatmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salios/pseuds/Salios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James felt more for his quiet, if snarky, flatmate than any double-oh should feel for any person. His duty to Queen and country came first, and if that meant keeping Q at arms length and denying what he needed most, he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where Denial Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously non-profit, beware the gay, etc...
> 
> \----  
> 

"Heading out again?"

 

"Hmm? Oh, yes; I'll be gone for a few days at the minimum, could be up to a month if things go terribly." Bond hiked the shoulder strap of his duffel a little higher. One hand clasped the edge of the front door to the flat, his head turned to look over his shoulder. He smiled, wicked and promising, "try not to miss me too much, yeah?” 

 

A snort, "right, I might need a support group to get through the withdrawal. You'd think I'd be used to you being gone for weeks at a time, but apparently not." The young man seated crossed legged in the middle of the living room grinned up at Bond through his fringe, glasses slipping down the slim line of his nose.

 

Bond, in a moment of childish glee, stuck his tongue out in defiance. "Yeah yeah, say that all you want but we both know you'd rather an empty flat than to let some other random bloke take my room. Besides, you know I'll always come back." That was a lie, something he couldn't ever promise but Dietzel, nicknamed Q, didn't need to know that. "Maybe I'll bring you a souvenir this time, yeah?"

 

Dietzel cocked his head to the side, fringe falling away to bare bright hazel-green eyes. "Depends, where are they shipping you off to this time? If its Canada, I don't think I need any more maple syrup, not after the bloody _case_ you sent home that one time." His tone was chastising but the corners of his eyes crinkled in fondness.

 

Bond chuckled, "no, not Canada this time, I'm visiting Spain. Maybe you'd like a football or something." They both knew a football was the last thing the younger man would ever want. His interests lay almost entirely in electronics and comic books, though he would often sit with Bond on their crowded couch when a game was on, hooting and hollering and meeting Bond half-way in a bear hug whenever their team scored.

 

"Sounds good, surprise me?" With one last fond smile, Q looked back to his laptop, a frankensteined piece of machinery that, in Bond's opinion, showed far too many internal parts to be considered safe to use.

 

"Allons-y and such, see you when I get back."

 

\------

 

Bond returned within a month, toting an extra duffel with the promised football and an assortment of Spanish brandies that almost didn't make it to the flat from the airport. With a fair amount of juggling one handed, as his left arm was in a sling, and some creative cursing Bond eventually got the door open. The sight that greeted him couldn't have been more appreciated. While in the midst of coding or surfing the internet, Dietzel had obviously fallen asleep.

 

In his pants.

 

Bond snickered and almost silently set down his bags, taking the time to remove his smart phone from the inner jacket of his pocket and snap a few photos for later on. It wasn't uncommon for his younger flat mate to fall asleep mid-task; the boy had a fairly severe case of insomnia which led to his body shutting down at the most inopportune times. More than once Bond had watched him pop off to the washroom for whatever reason, only to have to crack the door an hour or two later when Q didn't reappear. Often he'd just fallen asleep on the toilet, pants around his ankles, gently snoring. Other times he was in the shower, leaning against one tiled wall, soaked and out cold. If Bond was completely honest he couldn't deny the fondness he felt for his young flat mate. Dietzel was a joy to be around; the younger man's sharp tongue and sharper wit meant they always had something interesting to discuss. His slight frame meant his metabolism burnt off alcohol quickly enough that he could keep up with Bond on the nights the double-oh was determined to become black-out drunk. Or at least try. When Q eventually hit his limit, which he always did, bless him, he would promptly curl up in Bond's lap, nose buried into the older man's neck. Bond, when he eventually woke the next day, wouldn't have the heart to move the insomniac and would instead rearrange them for more comfortable cuddling.

 

He hadn't so much as hinted to Dietzel that he was interested; it would make their very comfortable living arrangements difficult if neither could handle a one-off. A relationship wasn't exactly in Bond's cards, not with how often he was gone on some deadly escapade. He'd already been resurrected three times, but that didn't give him any hope for future near-death (or actual death as it were) instances. No, he couldn't put either of them through that. And so he was content to enjoy Q's company when he could and instead warmed his bed with a steady stream of beautiful women that helped dull the physical ache brought on by emotional longing.

 

Knowing the brandy would keep for however long it took to get his flat mate to bed, Bond gently coaxed Dietzel into his good arm. The young man weighed so little it took minimal effort to half carry half drag him down the hall to his room. Managing to nudge open the door, Bond paused, and then sighed. The bedroom was a warzone, the floor nearly invisible under boxes and spare computer parts. The bed was worse off, the bare mattress covered in several half-built machines. He knew better than to attempt to move any of them, he'd rather face M's fury than Q's wide, panicked eyes and upset whimpers. The boy was like a puppy, honestly. Bond hiked Q higher and headed further down the hall to his own room. Using a combination of Dietzel's arms, which were wrapped sloth-like around Bond's neck, and his own substantial body weight to press the slightly shorter man against the wall, Bond managed to free his good arm long enough to unlock and open his bedroom door.

 

He trusted Dietzel as much as he did anyone else, which meant surprisingly little though the young man was closely on par with Moneypenny and M, he didn't trust the boy enough to leave his bedroom open for inspection. Bond took up Q's weight again and shuffled into the room, neglecting the light switch. He knew where his sparse furnishings were, no need to wake the messy-haired boy. Then came the difficult part. No matter how comatose he was, Dietzel was always reluctant to let go of Bond. His loose grip would tighten and, in one case a few months back, he'd even wrap his legs around any part of the agent he could. Not only was it frustrating, but Bond couldn't help but feel a flush of arousal at having Dietzel's slim form pressed tight against him. Having the brunette's legs wrapped around his waist certainly made carrying him easier, but it didn't help with keeping Bond's mind out of the gutter.

 

Bond sighed and, as best he could with Dietzel clinging like a particularly determined leech, peeled off his layers until he was left in his pants. His sling was discarded beside the bed beside his trousers and jacket, socks and shoes tossed further into the bedroom. Somehow he managed to wrestle Dietzel down under the covers, following quickly. The mission, while not having gone as terribly as it could have, had been long and tiring. All Bond truly wanted, other than possibly a tumbler of scotch, was to sleep. Being curled up in bed with Dietzel was definitely an added bonus though. So, as Bond wriggled under the covers on the left side of the bed, he found himself with an armful of Dietzel once again. He tucked the mass of soft curls under his chin and slipped an arm under Dietzel's ribs, pulling the young man close. This, for all emotional aches that came with it, was exactly where he wanted to be.

 

Bond fell asleep to the feeling of soft breaths against his collarbone, a press of chapped lips to flesh, and the sensation of being home.

 

 


End file.
